


Hope For the Best, Expect the Worst

by SamJoinedtheReconCorps



Series: A Flame in the Shadows [26]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, M/M, Mild Angst, Political Intrigue, oof my dudes, peace talks, post ep 99, spoilers for the wildemount fireside chat, y'all will know what i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamJoinedtheReconCorps/pseuds/SamJoinedtheReconCorps
Summary: The days at sea drag on - until they finally meet the Kryn armada and the negotiations begin.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Series: A Flame in the Shadows [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648909
Comments: 28
Kudos: 84





	Hope For the Best, Expect the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride guys!!! And also Happy Birthday to my beautiful mother that I love so so so so so much!!! I mean I know she's not reading this but I gotta spread that love that I feel for her out into the universe!!
> 
> I'm so sorry that its taken me a month to get around to writing this last piece (for now, until the hiatus is over), but fuck man, midterms really fucking piled in on me and now finals are here which is even MORE stressful, and I've also been feeling kinda down so I've been taking some time to relax and decompress and just take care of myself y'know??
> 
> but now that I'm here, before the chapter, this author's notes is gonna be kinda long, but I feel like its important for me to say that Black Lives Matter. Plain and simple. I honestly can’t find the right words to express the absolute heartbreak and helplessness I feel at the murder of George Floyd. But it's not just him and Breonna Taylor. It's countless, voiceless others, hundreds and hundreds that we may never know about. It doesn’t just go back to Tamir Rice and Eric Garner and Michael Brown and Trayvon Martin. It doesn’t just go back to Rodney King. It goes back decades, centuries, and it is a cancerous growth inside of our society that seeks to protect the government-empowered racists that seek to violently purge us from society.  
> I’m Latina, from immigrant parents. I was born and raised in the united states, and while I will never understand what it's like to be an African American in this country, I know what it's like to be Latino. What it's like to experience racism. What it's like to inherit trauma. What it's like to be treated as lesser than, feeling like you constantly have to prove yourself to EARN the right to live. It fucking sucks, and that’s a massive understatement. We all have to support this movement because EVERYONE fucking deserves to live without fear, we all have to rally behind this because there is strength in numbers, and it amplifies the voices that need to be heard.  
> I can’t protest because I have a cardiac condition and am thus at higher mortality risk for covid. But fuck, I commend and support and applaud all the protestors, and I would like to help in any way I can, so I’m using this space to [share a few links to resources](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/) and ways you can help if you can’t protest, whether it be through donations (which can also be done by[streaming certain videos on youtube](https://twitter.com/moonybora/status/1267600118066356224) ) or spreading information as well.  
> And if you don’t live in the united states and would still like to donate and help the Black Lives Matter movement, then God Bless. Like holy fuck, thank you so much. But I also urge you to look into the things happening in the communities in your countries. There are global demonstrations still taking place, and if you know of your communities organizing something, please make sure to check them out and help in any way you can. Alone we can’t fix everything, but together we are unstoppable.  
> To the protestors out there: please stay safe and take as much precaution as you can as we continue to go through the covid pandemic. Please stay safe, I love you all so very much, every single one of you is fighting for our basic human rights.  
> I know this was a long author’s note, but I can’t just stay quiet about this. We’re a community that’s built on love and kindness, and when the most vulnerable around us can’t be treated at that most basic level of human respect, there is something fundamentally wrong with the system that we must speak out against. Silence is complicit. Make the voices of the Black Lives Matter movement heard, because all we’re asking for is equality, and that starts with a complete overhaul of the militaristic policing system we have in the united states. Even though the cops that killed Mr Floyd have been arrested, there’s still a long way to go against police brutality and towards equality.  
> ACAB, and fuck los angeles mayor garcetti, chief of police moore, and that fascist bastard in chief trump in particular. The lot of them are fucking monsters. Defund the police and hold them accountable for their crimes.  
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I love you all so very, very much. Writing this chapter was hard with everything going on, but I know that this is my way to cope and decompress with all the violence we’ve seen unleashed on unarmed civilians by those fuckers with badges. I hope that this helps give a brief respite to those who read it, I hope you like it, and please, don’t forget to love each other.

Morning came without issue, aside from various aches and pains from the battle the night before. Still, they didn’t have time to sit around and lick their wounds - they needed to find out exactly why those creatures had come for them, had come for Fjord. They needed to know if they were merely Uk’toa’s followers - and if Uk’otoa itself sent them after Fjord.

The first body they interrogated was the elf - an elven woman, from the looks of it. She was the one that Caleb had taken down with the  _ acid arrow _ . Half her face was gone.

Once Caduceus cast  _ Speak with Dead _ \- and  _ disguise self _ to make himself look like Avantika to seem like a friendly face to the creatures - the woman’s remaining eye turned to him with a sickening slurp.

“ _ Who gave you your mission to find the orb? _ ” Caduceus asked.

A loud, raspy breath rattled her chest - or what remained of it. It was a vacuous cavern of decay, most of it melted away by the acid and what remained having turned bloated from the rainfall after having been left out on the deck.

“ _ Uk’otoa _ ,” she whispered.

And even though it just confirmed what they already knew, it wasn’t the least bit heartening to hear her say it - it also didn’t help to find out that she was a willing follow of Uk’otoa, a follower that had been given the ability to change into the sea creature shape she had when she attacked their ship.

“ _ It was granted _ ,” she rattled. “ _ Reward. _ ”

Avantika-Caduceus’ eyes narrowed. “ _ A reward for what? _ ”

_ “Allegiance _ .”

Caleb’s fingers curled into his coat sleeves, right over his scars.

They move on to interrogate the goliath, the first question being where Uk’otoa’s followers congregate.

“ _ Wherever there’s water _ ,” the goliath responds, it's lips curling into a grizzly grin.

The goliath gives them cryptic answers, evading questions with a smug look all the while - well, for a dead person.

“ _ Has Uk’otoa been released? _ ”

“ _ Soon _ ,” he answers, the spirit leaving the body as it slumps over, completely lifeless again, the ghost of a smile on his face.

For the human man, the last interrogation, they decide that Jester should do it, who plans on making herself look like the elven woman in order to hopefully get better answers from him if he believes he’s talking to a subordinate. 

Stepping closer to the ritual, Caleb pulls out one of his pearls, putting it to Jester’s forehead as he casts  _ Fortune’s Favor _ . 

“So, you know, for lying to the dead,” Caleb tells her.

It's a comforting tug on his magic, a dunamantic net cast out in search of the best outcome. He hopes Jester finds it.

He tries not to think too much of Essek, tries not to think of slender fingers guiding him through the motions of the spell, of the small smile he gave him when Caleb had finally gotten it right.

“Okay, okay,” Jester nods, getting ready to start the interrogation. She  _ disguises _ herself as the elven woman - or what she thinks the elven woman would’ve looked like if her face wasn’t horribly disfigured - before she stoops down, lighting the incense as she casts  _ speak with dead _ .

She adopts a horrible accent, stumbling through a conversation with the corpse as she weedles information out of him.

“ _ Where should - where should I go? What should I do? Should I keep going after the guy? _ ”

The man’s chest creaks as he draws breath, the air escaping his body from his punctured lungs and carved open ribcage. “ _ Find the betrayer.” _

Caleb glances over at Fjord worriedly, finding him pale as he stares down at the man in disbelieving fear.

_ “And then once I get him, _ ” Jester continues, “ _ we’re gonna - I’m gonna take him back to the temple, ah, close by - maybe? Is that where I should take him?” _

“ _ Yes, _ ” it wheezes, the response long and drawn out. “ _ The final seal _ .”

That settles on them like a burial shroud - the final seal, and then the sea serpent of the depths would be released.

Fjord nervously tries to skirt past the discomfort of the moment, trying to cheer up the group with a joking suggestion of using the orb to fish for these creatures - but instead of being met with laughter, even more tension strains them as they realize that maybe they should be prepared for more battles at any second.

“Should we try and ally ourselves with one of the other ships?” Fjord says, sobering up after realizing his attempts at humor aren’t doing the usual job at diffusing the tension. “Just - oh Melora, what would we say?”

“We should tell Essek,” Jester instantly speaks up.

Caleb is immediately torn between wanting to tell him, and wanting to keep it from him. He feels like maybe they should tell him the truth, that they were attacked by followers of an eldritch being that are coming after Fjord and that they may keep coming back until they finish the job. He feels like they should tell him the truth so he can be prepared too, so that he can stay safe from whatever this might turn into.

But he’s scared. He’s scared that Essek won’t care, that Essek will leave them if they were to ever need his help - or worse, that he might turn on them in the midst of Uk’otoa caused chaos and take them out,  _ his _ loose end.

It makes his heart clench and his stomach churn.

_ Nein _ , he mentally scolded himself. Essek - he was worried for them, too. This wasn’t just one way - he  _ cared _ about them, like they cared about him. Caleb hoped he would fight for them, like Caleb knows he would fight for Essek.

Still, he could never be too careful.

“Hope for the best, expect the worst,” Caleb quietly reminds himself as everyone begins to disperse to perform the various repair tasks on the ship. He knows he’s not versed well enough in nautical maintenance, but the least he can do is hand Jester tools while she patches up the ship’s gun deck - which is exactly what he ends up doing for most of the rest of the day.

The sun is close to dipping below the horizon when Beau approaches him, catching him staring out at the rest of the armada that sails alongside them. He glances around nonchalantly, trying to hide that he was looking for the  _ Wind of Aeons  _ amongst the various ships.

Beau brings up DeRogna, specifically the job she had offered them. Caleb doesn’t have the head space to think about that with how worried he is about the peace negotiations and the new threat of Uk’otoa hanging over their heads, as well as whatever the Hells the Assembly might have planned once they got away with their crimes.

They ultimately agree to head to the  _ Wind of Aeons _ the next day, just to feel out DeRogna and Da’leth - and to show that they were  _ very _ invested in the outcome of these peace talks. Hopefully that would be enough of a deterrent for them to not try anything that could jeopardize the negotiations.

Regardless, before Caleb went to bed that night - after setting out the  _ alarm _ beneath their room and creating the dome for everyone and reminding Fjord to cast  _ water breathing _ on their group, as well as sending out monkey-Frumpkin to hang on the rigging and keep a lookout overnight - he made sure he had the proper components for a handful of combat spells for the next day.

Hope for the best, expect the worst.

* * *

“- Righteous Brand elite soldiers and they will have their dignitary as well as protectors as well.”

Essek rolled his eyes, levitating a pearl between his fingers in boredom. The Martinet was probably running DeRogna through the peace talks again. Nothing new.

“Will Master Ikithon and any of his proteges be present?”

He froze, the pearl falling into the palm of his hand.

“No,” Ludinus answered. “He is not part of this discussion.”

There was a beat of silence - one that Essek quietly took advantage of as he stood up from his chair and made his way to the door, straining to listen.

“Is he sailing with us?” Caleb asked - because yes, that was Caleb, he knew that voice, couldn’t get that voice out of his head even if he tried. The question is polite, unassuming, but there’s a tremor in his voice that’s impossible to miss.

“No,” Ludinus repeated - to which Caleb responded with something else, but Essek couldn’t catch it, couldn’t hear as they moved past his door.

He pressed himself to the thick wood, holding his breath - but nothing else came. He cursed under his breath. What in the Light was Caleb doing on the Assembly ship? Why was he there - and who was he with?

The chilling thought that Caleb might be alone struck him, fear flooding his veins like ice to his system. He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, half a dozen spells running through his mind. He could get Caleb out. He  _ would _ get Caleb out.

Essek shoved his hand into his pocket, searching for the right components.

_ I, ah, feel conflicted about this, but would like to see even a temporary end to conflict. _

His hand wraps around the cured leather in his pocket, the defense spell on his lips, before he reluctantly lets it go. He trusts Caleb, knows that Caleb could get away or at least cause enough of a commotion that Essek would know to help - but right now he can’t risk anything by acting too hastily.

This temporary peace was too tenuous.

A heavy weight settles in his stomach as he sits by the door, staying as quiet as possible as he waits with bated breath - not finding any relief until he finally hears Caleb leaving about twenty minutes later, escorted out by the Martinet. And even then he still sits and waits, waits and waits and waits, stewing in his own mistakes, in this prison of his own making.

* * *

As soon as they returned to the ship, Beau and Caleb were greeted by everyone else, all eager to know how their time on the  _ Wind of Aeons _ had gone. They filled them in on the key details - that the beacon was different from the one they saw at the Vergesson Sanatorium, and thus must be the remaining stolen beacon, that there seemed to be tension between Da’leth and DeRogna, tension that Beau helped strain further - but all in all the Assembly seemed reserved. Unreadable. It made Caleb’s skin crawl.

“Nice - nice work,” Veth grinned, listening to how Beau’s casual comment to DeRogna seemed to cause the Martinet to bristle.

Beau shrugged, but she had a satisfied smile on her face. “Just sowing a little, you know, in party fighting.”

“Seeds of discord,” Fjord finished, looking ridiculously proud.

“So if you look at it right, it was a complete and total victory,” Caleb deadpanned, trying for humor.

“Is it normal, I mean, didn’t - who was it that said, was it Yussa? That said wizards have a hard time working with each other because they’re very powerful?” Jester asked. “Or was that Halas?”

Caleb cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, it was Yussa. Ah, and, ah, ego plays a great part in it as well.”

Jester cocked her head to the side, as if trying to decipher a puzzle. “Do you think as you get more and more powerful you’ll become, like, egotistical, Caleb, instead of nice like you are now?”

“No, no,” Veth cut in, shaking her head. “He’s - he’s getting more and more warm everyday.”

Lowering her voice, Beau whispered to Fjord, “He’s nice?”

“Of course he’s nice,” Veth frowned.

“He’s very nice,” Caduceus agreed easily.

Beau clapped Caleb on the shoulder with a smile. “I’m just fucking with ya.”

“That’s fair,” Caduceus nodded, smiling fondly at them.

Caleb looked down at the deck, taking in his friends’ words, with warring emotions stirring in his chest - equal parts fondness and instant guilt that they felt like that about him, the immediate reaction of wanting to contradict them, of telling them that they’re wrong, that he’s a monster. That he has nothing but blood on his hands.

“I don’t know,” Caleb answers instead.

Jester smiles at him. “I think you should stay like you are.”

“But get incrementally more powerful until you can achieve your goals,” Veth adds.

“Obviously,” Jester instantly agreed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“If we recruited, like, another wizard, would you guys butt heads?” Beau asked him.

“Ah, well, you know, Essek and I get along f-fairly well,” Caleb replies without a second thought. He thinks of ink stained fingers and encouraging smiles and Essek’s hand on his hip, his other holding his hand as he guides him through the motions. He thinks of their fingers threading together whenever Essek  _ teleports _ them, thinks of Essek stepping into the cell of the Dungeon of Penance after the Scourger attacked him. He thinks of Essek’s lab, of the way Essek and Veth and he worked on Veth’s spell together, thinks of the way Essek’s fingers would brush against his when he passed him the next component of the spell, thinks of the way Essek and he synced up in their work, anticipating each others needs and knowing exactly how to help.

He thinks of Essek on the gundeck of the  _ Wind of Aeons _ , thinks of the way his heart dropped to his ankles when he saw Essek revealed beneath the Lord Thain  _ disguise _ . He thinks of Essek at the party, skirting around them and avoiding them at all costs, thinks of how he’d held onto Caleb’s hands so desperately when Caleb had clapped him in irons, thinks of how defeated he’d looked when they finally got him onto the  _ Balleater _ .

Caleb thinks of soft skin beneath the palm of his hand and shaking hands holding onto the front of his coat, thinks of tear stained cheeks and a thundering heartbeat. He thinks of a gentle kiss to a furrowed brow, achingly soft, echoing the devastation in his heart, the wreckage that had slowly begun to knit back together now that he was finding his place again - now that Caleb was finding a home.

“I think,” he added softly.

“That’s true,” Jester nodded.

Thankfully, the conversation moved on to teasing Caleb about “butting heads” with wizards, skirting past his mention of Essek, keeping him from diving headfirst into his worries and fears about the danger Essek was in because of the people he was dealing with.

It was a worry that didn’t leave him for the rest of the day, despite how calm the rest of the day was. It was a quiet day, filled with more tasks needed to run the ship, giving him things to keep him blissfully busy up until the end of the day when it was time to set everything up for bed.

He sent Frumpkin up to the rigging again, glad that the rain had finally let up that night. He cast  _ alarm _ beneath the room, heading back up to start to cast the dome when he paused at the door, looking at the spectral amethyst-headed armored creature standing at attention beside the bed.

“ _ Guardian of faith,” _ Caduceus told him, already settled down in his usual spot as he tugged Fjord closer to him. Fjord was staring at the  _ guardian _ in awe, tucking in beside Caduceus and comfortably basking in the spectral purple glow.

Caleb nodded his understanding. Another safety measure certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Looking around, Caleb could see Beau gingerly kneading a salve into Jester’s sunburnt purple skin, apologizing under her breath every time Jester grimaced. Veth was right beside her, helping Beau with Jester as well.

But no Yasha.

Stepping out, Caleb made his way to the deck in search of her. He knew that the last few days - while tense after the attack - had been comforting for her because of the storm. Now that it had passed, well...Caleb just wanted to make sure she was okay.

“Hey,” he started gently, finding her leaning against the railing, staring off to sea. “You were awfully quiet the last, ah, day - are you alright?”

She glanced at him, giving him a soft, “Hey,” in return. She looked out to the ocean again, letting silence fall over them for a beat before she met his gaze. “I think so.”

“What’s out there?” Caleb asked, nodding towards the sea.

“Just, watching the storm, I guess,” she answered. She crossed her arms. Not defensively, just casually. “Keeping - keeping tabs, making sure nothing else climbs aboard.”

“You’ll come to bed in a bit,  _ ja _ ?”

“Yeah,” she said. She seemed at ease, much more at ease than he’d seen her in a long time.

“Okay,” Caleb nodded.

“How are you?” she asked him in return. He didn’t think he would ever get over how soft spoken and gentle she was, how it contrasted with the intimidating figure she cut - how it changed so dramatically in the heat of battle.

“Oh - very good,” Caleb responded. He was alive. He was healthy. He had a roof over his head. He had food. He was very good.

Yasha held his gaze for a beat. “I -” she started, before she paused, looking out to sea as she put her thoughts into words. “You know how Fjord said he had a - a dream that he swallowed that ball and then it was there?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Does that make sense to you?” She turned to him, looking unsure - as if she were troubled, but unburdened by it. Accepting.

“That - that he dreamed and, and it became so?” Caleb asked, wanting to make sure he had understood her correctly.

Yasha nodded. “Yeah.”

“Ah - well, that has never happened for me,” Caleb told her. “But there are a great many things in this world, are there not?”

“Yes - I seem to find that to be true every day,” she agreed.

Caleb watched her curiously. “You having colorful dreams lately?”

She hesitated for a moment before she gave him a small smile. “Yeah - ah, well, they’re usually, you know, not very colorful, but just strange, I guess.” She opened her mouth as if about to say more, but merely sighed. “Yeah.”

They fell into comfortable silence, just staring out at the ocean until Yasha spoke up. She glanced at him. “Well, I guess we should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Caleb nodded. “Dream again.”

“I hope so,” Yasha smiled.

“You, ah, um - for what it’s worth, you seem a little, a little more, ah, steady,” Caleb told her.

Yasha patted herself on the arm from where she still held them crossed over her chest. “I feel a little more steady - which is weird because we’re on a boat.” She gave a huff of laughter before she covered it up with a cough. “Sorry, that was a bad joke.”

Caleb breaks into a smile. “It was pretty good.”

She smiled at him again before she sobered. “Yeah, I feel like, um - this group is pretty special.” She held his gaze. “I know you and I both have gone through some things and we carry a lot of - weight, with us.” She patted her arm again. “But boy, do I feel lucky to be with these people.”

“It's all about who you choose to surround yourself with, I think,” Caleb says. He thinks of the mischievous glint in Veth’s eye and Jester’s smile and Beau’s sarcasm and Yasha’s strength. He thinks of Fjord’s humor and Caduceus’ calm and Mollymauk’s laughter. He thinks of Frumpkin’s comfort and his magic, magic that transforms and creates rather than simply destroys. He thinks of Essek - he can’t stop thinking of Essek. “That makes all the difference.”

“I think it does,” Yasha agrees. She nodded towards the stairs that led below deck. “I feel safe with these people.”

“We feel very safe with you,” Caleb told her.

She smiled again - that same smile that she had given him all those months ago, down in the Gentleman’s safe house in the Labenda swamp, after he’d told her “ _ This means we are friends _ .” Simpler times, when their biggest worries was just finding enough coin to keep themselves alive.

“I hope so,” Yasha said.

“ _ Ja _ ,” Caleb nodded. He patted her arm. “I’m gonna go get, ah, things ready down below. Join us when you’re ready.”

“I will,” she promised.

He gave her one last “Okay” before he headed for the stairs, glancing back and watching her as she looked out to sea. He looked out as well - but out on the other side of the ship, where the rest of the armada was. Where he knew the  _ Wind of Aeons _ was.

Caleb found the ship amongst the rest of them, feeling the way his worries descended upon him again before he finally went below deck.

* * *

The days at sea are long and uneventful - after Caleb’s visit to the  _ Wind of Aeons _ and Ludinus’ maddeningly cryptic responses as to why he’d even been on the ship in the first place, there was really nothing to do. Aside from the daily inspection of the beacon, Essek spent the time locked in his quarters, staring out his window, going through dunamantic equations in his head and mentally composing responses to the official documents that he knew were piling up on his desk.

At least it was almost over. From the sound of it, the Empire armada had spotted the Dynasty’s ships. They estimated that they would come together sometime after noon.

“Lord Thain,” came a muffled voice, along with a knock at his door. “Would you accompany me for tea?”

Ludinus’ way of telling him it was time to inspect the beacon.

He cast  _ disguise self _ , adopting his Dezran Thain persona before he moved to his door, knocking on it quietly.

It swung open, the Martinet gesturing past him. “Shall we?”

Essek silently stepped out, falling into step beside Ludinus. DeRogna soon joined them, with the both of them opening the  _ arcane lock _ on the door, ushering him inside before Ludinus snapped his fingers. A chest apparated on the empty table in the middle of the room and Essek stepped forward, pushing it open.

A bright light filled the room as Essek gingerly pulled out the beacon, holding it in his hands. A sense of immediate awe and reverence washed over him, one that he stamped down as he focused on the task at hand, attuning to the beacon with a clinical detachment.

There was a tug at the center of his chest, one that pulled him forward with every beat of his heart. He let it guide him, let it draw him in until he was surrounded by hundreds of thousands of strands, all of them lifetimes, every single one of them reaching towards the eons of the past while simultaneously racing forward into the eternal future. For a breath Essek was one with the weave of it all, watching as the strands wove together before being pulled apart, the intricate tapestry being brought into creation before his very eyes.

It was madness and bliss and pain and relief all at once, and suddenly he was back in his body, a single shard of possibility tucked close to his heart. He ignored the lump that rose in his throat as he realized it was never going to be more than this for him. This was all the beacon would give him - a shard, a brief moment in time when Essek had dedicated his whole life to it. And this was probably going to be the last time he would ever hold a beacon like this, it would be the last time he would ever feel close to their deity.

He returned the beacon to the chest. Everything was in perfect order.

The Martinet snapped his fingers and it disappeared. It was a well practiced routine at this point, one that required speaking from none of them.

Which is why it surprised him when Ludinus spoke up.

“Given that we are now mere hours away from coming into contact with the Dynasty’s Armada, I think it would be prudent if you were no longer aboard our ship.”

Essek met his gaze. He’d thought about that too - had thought about all the wards that the Dynasty would have placed in order to guard from any possible foul play. He had designed many of those wards, after all.

However, that didn’t mean that Essek didn’t bristle at Ludinus’ words. “Is that so?”

Ludinus raised a brow at Essek’s tone. “I assume that your people would have charms in place that would anticipate all kinds of magical interference - magic that could see through  _ disguises _ and could possibly even sense you.”

_ Your people _ \- the way Ludinus said that made him sick.

“That would be a correct assumption,” Essek forced himself to say. He held Ludinus’ gaze cooly. “I expect to be kept informed about the goings on of the negotiations.”

The Martinet nodded. “I will inform you as much as is possible.”

Meaning not at all - Essek had worked with the Assembly long enough to know that by now. He’d been their tool, and now his usefulness had reached its end. All he had to do was keep his silence now that they were to part ways.

He wasn’t going to hear about any developments with the new beacon, wasn’t going to find out about what new magic they might uncover with their experiments.

While a twinge of frustrated anger flared up in his chest, what he mostly felt was an overwhelming wave of relief. This was it. It was over.

“You’ll hear about the negotiations from your queen herself as she goes through the peace talks with King Bertrand,” DeRogna added, starting to guide Essek back to his quarters.

“I suppose I will find out either way then,” Essek said, falling into silence as he followed.

They led him back to his room, stepping inside after him. Essek watched them suspiciously, realizing that they weren’t going to leave until  _ he  _ was gone.

A dark shadow fell over the room, the bright sunlight blotted out completely. The Dynasty Armada was almost upon them.

He began to trace out the sigils and runes in the air around him, getting ready to  _ teleport _ to his tower. He could picture his study, with his books and scrolls lined up on shelves - could picture his desk with his unfinished reports waiting idly by. He could already imagine the oppressive silence that was a constant there.

Hesitation made him linger on a rune for a split second as he instead began to think of weathered wood and mismatched crates and warm hands holding his. He imagined the dimly lit room, drawing it to the forefront of his mind.

This would be his last  _ teleport _ of the day he reminded himself - to get back to Rosohna would mean that he would have to draw a  _ circle _ , which would mean having to walk through the Lucid Bastion. That in itself would leave him open to speculation about his travels - about travels during  _ these  _ times.

It meant taking a risk.

A risk he was willing to take.

Besides, he mused, everyone that came through the Lucid Bastion was reported back to him anyway. He could keep things under wraps.

Essek finished the last rune, feeling the magic surround him, taking hold as he focused on the lower decks of the  _ Balleater _ \- and hoping, praying that they wouldn’t turn him away as he finally  _ teleported _ .

* * *

It was on the tenth day of their journey that they finally spotted the Kryn Dynasty’s armada - and soon after that, the noonday sun disappeared as the Kryn ships grew closer, their dunamantic based darkness spell turning everything to night around them as the Empire’s armada moved into its radius.

Caleb finds it a strange comfort, looking up at the sky and knowing that it's only 2:04 in the afternoon but instead seeing the soft shroud of midnight. He had missed this, he realized. He had missed the night of Rosohna - the place he had started to consider home.

He pushed the realization to the back of his mind. All that mattered now was focusing on the negotiations.

Their ship fell into formation along with the rest of the Empire and Clovis Concord ships, their ovaloid arrangement now turning more triangular, a movement mirrored by the imposing Kryn ships.

Having been traveling alongside the Empire armada for so long, Caleb had gotten used to their look and design - so seeing the Dynasty ships now, with their purple Vermaloc wood make and the gold detailing highlighting the dark wood made them stand out much more to him. The Empire had patterned their ships after those of the Clovis Concord in the Menagerie Coast, but the Dynasty ships - they seemed like a whole different kind of creation entirely.

The centermost ship had tall grey sails emblazoned with the Dynasty’s emblem, the script on the side reading  _ Vin-Radethak _ \- the  _ Everstorm _ , as Beau had translated for them - which seemed to be the ship that would be engaging in the negotiations as it came to rest beside the  _ Blue Heaven _ .

They all take turns passing around one of two looking glasses, watching as broad planks are set out to connect both ships, with Lord Zeddan Graf, the Empire’s Emissary, stepping forward to greet the Dynasty representative - the Dusk Captain, which Caleb recognized as the woman that had spoken out in the Bright Queen’s throne room.

Jester takes the looking glass next, focusing on the ships and the representatives that are beginning to discuss on the boards.

“Oh, Ludinus is there,” Jester frowns, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she tinkers with the gear of the looking glass that magnifies what she’s viewing.

Fjord and Jester make a scan of the other ships, commenting on the presence of soldiers and weapons, how they both seem to be showcasing the power of their might, when suddenly Caduceus greets someone. “Hey,” he calls out.

Swinging around with the looking glass, Jester immediately brings it down, exclaiming, “When did you get here?”  
“I arrived but a few moments ago,” a familiar voice answers - and Caleb whips around, catching sight of Lord Dezran Thain as he comes up from beneath their deck. Essek in _disguise_ , but his voice is his, no attempt at a false Nicodranian accent to be found.

“Why do people keep bamfing onto our ship without permission?” Beau huffed, crossing her arms.

“We do that a lot to other people,” Veth reminded her.

“You’re not wrong,” Beau sighed, taking the looking glass from Jester as she turned to observe the ships. “It’s fair.”

“It's good to see you,” Jester smiled.

Thain smiled at her words - and gods, that was Essek’s smile, that hesitant twitch at the corner of his lips that Caleb has missed more than the night of Rosohna. “You as well,” he answered. He gestured to the surrounding ships. “It is best that I am nowhere near these negotiations.” He looked down, staring intently at the deck. “Um, the Martinet has the beacon’s transference handled. I am just here to be watchful.”

“Will they know it's you?” Jester asked. “Like, will the people on the, the other side -”

“There are many wards placed around the proximity of this negotiation, I’m certain,” Essek explained. “So I would not wish to put myself in a precarious situation.” He looked around at all of them, gaze landing on Caleb. “I figured this was the safest place to be - if you don’t mind?” he rushed out, suddenly nervous as he shifted where he stood.

Jester nods in response, but Essek still holds his gaze, waiting for his answer. Caleb can’t find his voice, so instead he looks away, back to the ships around them.

Caduceus hands Caleb one of the looking glasses, allowing Caleb a closer look at the stretch of boards that connected the ships, watching as two mirrors were brought out, facing each other. That was how the monarchs were to converse.

“I feel like we should be there,” Caleb sighed, glancing at Beau.

Beau tapped the wooden railing impatiently. “I know.” She turned to him. “Do a few of us need to get closer? We’ve got  _ water breathing. _ ”

Stepping up on Beau’s other side, Caduceus shook his head. “I th - don’t know if we should poke this.”

“They’ve got lots of wards, you know,” Jester added, nodding towards Essek.

“If we get - yeah, and if we get, if we even rattle that, the whole thing falls apart,” Caduceus told them. “Let’s just see if it crows on its own.”

“Do not think you are the only ship keeping a very close eye on every other ship on this armada,” Essek said, gliding closer to them.

“Plus, it's five hundred feet,” Fjord sighed, lowering his looking glass. “You’d be trapped in the middle. Take you too long to get there, and if something happened, you’d be stuck.”

Essek came to stand by Caleb, keeping a prudent distance between them. “Do as you will, but,” Essek trailed off with a shrug.

“I can just walk over there?” Veth volunteered as Jester sighed loudly.

“Yeah, that - that would go well,” Jester deadpanned.

Veth pulled out a piece of gum arabic, the small shard of resin glinting amber in her palm. “I can be  _ invisible _ .”

“The only - the only part we’re really not looking at -” Fjord started.

“They have wards,” Jester said, pointing at the ships. “They would know that it was not really, you know, like - they would be able to see you.”

“Mhm, m’kay,” Veth hummed, shoulders sagging as Jester pointed out that she would be found out quickly.

Yasha nodded in agreement. “They’d probably be able to see.”

“It would - yeah,” Caduceus echoed.

“I think the only thing that’s not being watched is beneath us,” Fjord finished. “That’s it.” An ominous statement, given what had come from beneath just a handful of days ago. Fjord looked around at the group, taking in their silence. “I don’t know how to remedy that - I think we’re here for the show.”

“Yep,” Caduceus sighed.

They lapsed into silence after that, with small bouts of conversation amongst them as the talks began. Veth assured Fjord that she and Yasha had packed “the good powder”, reminding him that they were at the ready for whenever Fjord deemed it necessary to open fire - which Caleb hoped wouldn’t be necessary at all, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared. Caleb himself was glad that he had prepared a handful of ranged spells just in case.

Hope for the best, expect the worst, after all.

After a few hours Caduceus wandered off, taking Yasha with him - returning a half hour later with a tray of sandwiches that they handed out to the group.

Essek took his with a grateful nod, quietly eating as he kept his eyes on the peace talks despite his attention being pulled back to the Nein’s conversation every now and then. He hadn’t moved from Caleb’s side, and Caleb hadn’t budged from his spot either.

Caleb didn’t know if he wished Essek would close the distance between them or that he were brave enough to close the distance himself.

“Hey, Essek,” Jester called out.

The man in question turned to her, brow raised.

“I mean, sorry - should I not call you that?” she asked.

“Ah, in mixed company it would not be preferred, yes, please,” he hurriedly corrected her, glancing around nervously at the neighboring ships - all out of earshot, but still close enough that arcane casters like themselves knew they could still be subject to spells that might make it easy to eavesdrop on them.

Jester nodded before she huffed out a belated, “Hey.” She turned to the armada, gaze landing on the two ships hosting the negotiation. “Um, can you  _ scry _ on them?”

Essek glanced over at the ships she was referring to. “Ah, I would probably say I would prefer not to.”

“Would they know that you’re  _ scrying?” _ Jester asked.

“They would know they are being  _ scried  _ upon, if, ah, they have the right wards,” Essek told her. “Which I have to assume they have every sort of ward present on this for that reason.” 

“Ugh - how do we hear?” Jester whined, rattling the railing.

“We don’t,” he answered. “We trust -”

“This is really boring,” she groaned. “Without knowing what they’re saying.”

“Jester,” Essek calmly continued.

“Huh?” she sighed.

“Welcome to politics,” he smiled ruefully.

“Oh!” Jester gasped dramatically, throwing her head back. “I hate politics.”

Fjord bummed his shoulder with Jester’s. “Jester, boring is good - also, not boring is, with this many people, probably not.”

“That’s actually a really good point,” Jester nodded.

There’s another lull in conversation as they all continue to carefully observe the  _ Everstorm  _ and the  _ Blue Heaven _ . After another couple hours the negotiations seem to come to an end - at least for the day. The mirrors are removed, and each representative returns to their respective ship. There was no transference of any kind, whether it be of the prisoners or the beacon. Neither of the armadas move.

Caleb glances over at Jester, noting the long-suffering expression on her face from the absolute boredom of it all. “How would you like to  _ send  _ a message to the Bright Queen?”

Jester’s face splits into a grin. “Oh my gods, I was thinking about doing that.”

“But she’s in the middle of a negotiation,” Veth frowned.

“Not at the moment she is not,” Caleb told her.

“No, she just finished, she’s not talking,” Jester replied, already pulling out her copper wire. “What should I ask her? Be like, ‘How’s it going?’”

“‘How’s it going’ is the first thing to ask,  _ ja _ ,” Caleb smiled. “Does she feel it's going well? Does she trust that it is going to reach completion smoothly?” He shrugged. “Just an update.”

“Yeah,” Jester nodded, going through the motions for the spell. “I’m sure she’s - totally wants to talk to me.” 

Caleb drummed his fingers on the railing. “No she does not, but I think it's a good idea.”

“ _ Oh my gosh, I could see you in the mirror - you look soooo beautiful! _ ” Jester started. _ “What were you guys saying? Did it go well? Are you _ happy?” She paused, looking up as a smile spread across her face. She glanced around at everyone. “She thinks they’re going decent - ‘not poorly yet’ she says.”

“Okay, “ Caleb breathed out. That was good. That was progress.

“Don’t, sh - I do not think she wants me to  _ send _ another message,” Jester added. “If that’s what you’re going to - I don’t think that she -”

“We won’t push-push it,” Caleb assured her. “Maybe one day at a time.”

“Should I  _ send _ a message to King Dwendal and find out what he thinks?” Jester suggested.

“Oh my gods,” Fjord sighed, running an exasperated hand down his face. He adopted a questioning tone. “How  _ did _ negotiations fall apart?”

Beau stifled a laugh as Caleb winced, saying, “We didn’t have as good a relationship, I feel, with King Dwendal.”

“It's true,” Jester admitted. “What about Martinet?”

“ _ Ja,”  _ Caleb nodded.

“ _ Hey - so you were there! Oh my gosh, what happened? What did they say?”  _ Jester asked, recasting  _ sending _ . _ “I’m - we’re just so curious. I really want to know how _ ?” She tapped her chin as she listened for the answer, nodding along with whatever she heard. “He used a good amount of words in the response and he says it was going really good.”

Essek gave an audible sigh of relief at that.

Jester gasped. “Oh my gosh, not-Essek, are you going to stay on the boat with us tonight? ‘Cause you can’t go any closer, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Are you going to sleep here? Are you going to sleep on our boat?”

He nervously shifted from foot to foot - or at least his illusion did. Caleb was sure he was floating. “I can probably, ah, handle myself, do not worry,” Essek told her.

“Where’re you gonna sleep?” she asked.

“I could return to my tower,” he said.

His response seemed to catch Jester completely by surprise as she blinked owlishly at him. “Oh,” she got out. “And then just come here tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Essek nodded.

“I mean -” Caduceus started.

“That’s pretty cool,” Jester said in awe.

Caduceus agreed. “That is pretty cool - technically speaking, nobody’s sleeping in the captain’s quarters.”

“Well, we have our Fjord decoy,” Jester reminded him.

“That’s fair - there is a dummy in there,” Caduceus nodded.

Essek’s brow furrowed in confusion, his mouth opening as if he were going to ask what they were referring to before he just shook his head, opting to let it be.

“Oh, yeah - no, nevermind,” Caduceus said, waving his previous words aside.

“Very strange, but okay,” Essek finally got out.

“Essek,” Jester started, before turning to the group and whispering, “Should I tell him?”

“What?” Veth asked as Beau shook her head subtly.

“Nevermind, go to your tower, it's okay,” Jester shrugged, ignoring the questioning look Essek gave her.

“He doesn’t need to know about that yet,” Caduceus told her. “It's one problem at a time.”

“We have a lot of irons in the fire,” Caleb quietly added, meeting Essek’s gaze, speaking to him directly for the first time since he’d arrived on their ship. He only wished he could actually see Essek, like truly  _ see _ him. Despite being able to pick out his expressions and mannerisms through his  _ disguise _ , Caleb found himself missing his dark skin and signature mantle, found himself missing the dunamantic wisps of magic that clung to his fingers.

Essek didn’t seem any less worried at Caleb’s response, but he gave him a smile all the same. “I can only imagine.”

They held each other’s gaze, almost as if they were making up for lost time, for all the days they’d spent apart and for the revelations that had broken the trust between them. At least the trust that Caleb had for Essek. He had no idea how Essek felt about him.

“Hey, when you come here tomorrow,” Jester started, pulling Essek’s attention to her and leaving unspoken words to die before they reached Caleb’s lips. “Will you bring some, like pastries ‘cause you’ll be - you’ll like, something good? Will you bring us a present?” At the uncertain expression on Essek’s face, Jester clasped her hands in front of her, laying it on thick with the puppy eyes, “But you like me, Essek, come on.”

“Things are a bit tense for me to head to a bakery,” Essek began, but Jester only bat her eyelashes and pouted more, lip quivering in an all too familiar exercise of guilting the observing party. Caleb had been on the receiving end of that treatment far too many times. “But should all things go well, maybe another time.”

“Aww, okay,” Jester mumbled.

“Nonetheless, ah, I will take my leave for the night,” Essek told them, almost hesitantly, reluctantly. “Thank you for, ah, not throwing me into the water.”

“You’re keeping it together?” Caleb asked. He had idea what the answer to that was going to be - but he just wanted a few more seconds with Essek, to have him here, with them, where Caleb knew they could keep him safe.

Essek paused, shoulders sagging before he straightened again. “As well as expected.”

“Okay,” Caleb nodded.

“That’s good,” Caduceus smiled, easy and sure, like always.

Beau pushed off the railing she’d been leaning against, quirking a brow at Essek. “You gonna bamf in tomorrow?”

He nodded once. “I feel safer being closer to the information - just not close enough.”

“Yeah, that tracks,” Beau noted.

“Anyway,” Essek sighs, turning back to the stairs that would lead to the below deck. Caleb knew what that meant. He was leaving.

And even though Caleb wanted to stop him, wanted to reach out to him, he didn’t. Now wasn’t the time for sentimentality, not when the peace of both their nations hung in the balance.

Essek gave their group one last sweeping look once he’d glided to the stairs, his gaze lingering on Caleb before he finally descended - and then he was gone.

* * *

“ _ You have, like, assistants! _ ” Jester’s voice rang out, breaking him from his trance. “ _ Like, send one of your guys out and then just have them come back and then you can have it in - _ ”

With a sigh, Essek rubbed at his temples, coming up with a response. He was used to Jester’s messages at all odd hours of the day, but that didn’t mean that they sometimes didn’t startle the Light out of him. “ _ I am trying to sleep, Jester. There is no bakery open at the moment. My sincerest apologies. _ ”

When no further messages came through, Essek rolled over in his bed - finding that despite the interruption he tranced much more peacefully after hearing from his lively friend.

* * *

“He’s a war criminal, you know,” Beau said, watching Jester sigh dramatically after finishing her  _ sending _ to Essek. “What are we gonna do with him?”

“I mean -” Caduceus started.

“After the - after we fix the war, then we’ll punish him,” Veth answered.

Caleb froze where he sat, his spellbook open in his lap where he was picking out his spells for the next day. They were all sitting on the deck, a nervous energy keeping them from heading to bed just yet.

“I don’t trust him,” Beau added.

“Of course not,” Veth agreed. “That’s why we’ll punish him.”

And now Caleb wonders if maybe he should have just gone to bed early, to keep from hearing this.

Caduceus nudges Jester with his staff, getting her attention from where he sits across from her. “He could bring baked goods, I-I agree,” Caduceus says, skirting past Beau and Veth’s words.

“Yeah,” Jester nods. She looks at Veth and Beau. “Maybe if he brings some baked goods, then we will punish him less.”

“One - one year off his sentence,” Veth muses as Beau hums in acknowledgement.

“Sure, for every pastry,” Jester quietly adds.

Caleb clears his throat. “Well, there’s plenty of people in your own nation to be furious at,” he says, forcing his voice to be light, unaffected. Forcing his words past the growing lump in his throat.

Veths nods. “Sure, yeah - we should get them, too.”

Beau turns to Caleb, eyes narrowing. “What’re you talking about? Are you trying to - what are you saying?”

“I am saying she has a lot of vitriol for Essek and that is understandable,” Caleb answers. He doesn’t meet Beau’s eyes as he flips to the next page of his spellbook, not reading what he’s looking at. “But there is just as much fault in our own country.”

“Oh, yes, no, I think the order should be punishing everyone in the Empire first - because we’re going to become a team of ninjas that just does that for a while,” Veth tells him.

“Yeah, and it's not a pissing contest of evil or who’s the bigger war criminal,” Beau picks up after her, bouncing her staff off her thigh.

“And then after all of the Empire folks have been punished and killed by us - team of ninjas - then we will punish Essek,” Veth finished.

Yasha shifted uncomfortably where she sat beside Caleb, her fingers stilling over her blade where she had been sharpening it. She glanced between her sword and Beau, expression unreadable save from the hurt in her eyes as she sheathed the  _ Skingourger,  _ setting it aside quickly as if it’d burned her.

“Or at least see that he gets some sort of, I don’t know,” Veth continued with a shrug. “He-he has to, there has to be some sort of…” She trails off, picking at her buttons before she looks around at everyone. “We can’t just let it go.”

“Justice,” Beau nods.

“Yeah,” Veth agrees.

Jester purses her lips as she stares down at her lap, smoothing out the folds of her skirt.

“Well, add him to the list,” Caleb forces himself to say. Bile rises up his throat at the words. 

“He can be at the end,” Veth says.

Caleb watches Veth as if she were a stranger.

“ _ We’ll _ be at the end,” Caduceus corrects, and Jester hums a strangled agreement. He’s watching Beau and Veth carefully, knowingly.

Fjord stands abruptly. “I’m going down - below decks,” he says quietly, leaving without another word.

It doesn’t take long for Caduceus to head off after him, with Beau heading to bed next. Caleb is almost convinced that Yasha would have stayed out there all night had Jester not reached out and taken her hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze and an apologetic smile as she led her below.

Veth stays up with Caleb, the silence between them uncomfortable and heavy.

“I think I’m gonna head off to bed, Cay,” she tells him.

He glances up at her, looking away from his spellbook that had just turned into blurred runes and unreadable sigils. He blinks hard, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Okay,” he says simply.

“Are you coming to bed, too?” Veth asks, standing up.

“ _ Ja _ ,” is his stilted reply, “I will.”

She takes a hesitant step towards him before she turns away instead, disappearing below the deck.

Caleb watches her go, shutting his spellbook with shaking hands.

_ Look, we all have our fucking trauma. You understand that? We all have our fucking garbage and our dirt and our shit, but you don’t get to use your skeletons in your closet, your PTSD to be shitty and control other people and what they want. _

Staggering to his feet, he moves to the railing as he feels like he’s going to be sick.

_ Your people -  _ your _ people were, were doing experiments and trying to, trying to f-find out and harness the power of - of - _

His hands grip the wood tightly, his knuckles turning white as he squeezes his eyes shut.

_ What? It’s  _ your _ people - it's the people that you know and trained with. _

He shakes his head, trying to physically shake the memory away, trying to hide and forget the words that still haunt him.

_ Well, f - well, fuck him - it's  _ your _ people that have done this. To  _ my _ people. _

The words that would always haunt him.

Caleb presses the palms of his hands to his eyes, feeling his chest shudder as he suppresses his tears. It's not worth it. He’s not worth it.

But Essek.

As soon as he thinks of him Caleb turns around, going back to where they’d all been sitting. It held more than enough space.

Pulling out his chalks, Caleb considers messaging Essek - but he can’t, he doesn’t know that spell, couldn’t reach him no matter how much he wants to. He crouches down, beginning to draw, thinking about heading back to Rosohna to tell him in person.

To tell him...what, exactly? That their friends, that his friends - that  _ they _ wanted him punished? That they were becoming judge, jury, and executioner, ready to dole out Essek’s sentence? What use would that do apart from widening the distance between them and Essek?

He pauses in his drawing, feeling the way his hand shakes. How long would it take for them to turn on him - how long would it take before they hung him for his crimes?

Tears burn in his eyes as he continues sketching - only stopping again as he suddenly thinks of how in the world he would get back unnoticed. Sure, Essek could bring him back in the morning - but who knows how Veth and Beau and everyone else would take that. And, even if he did go to Rosohna to tell Essek, where would he even stay? The empty rooms of the Xhorhaus only seem cold and lonely as he thinks of them now, of being there, all by himself, all alone with his thoughts.

The briefest of thoughts crosses his mind - Essek could come over, could stay with him at the Xhorhaus - before he shakes it away, but not before another, more insistent idea runs through his head: he could stay at Essek’s. He had a feeling that if Essek saw the state he was in, he might not let him leave anyway.

Caleb stares at the  _ teleportation circle _ he’s drawn out, stares at the blank spaces that he needs to fill in before he activates it.

On a broken breath he stands, scrubbing out the runes with the heel of his boot. He stares down at the scattered lines, all disconnected dust smudges. He shoves his chalk into his pocket, about to wipe at his eyes again when he sees the chalk dust on his fingers. It glints like stardust, and it reminds him so much of a pearl as it crumbles beneath his fingers when he casts  _ Fortune’s Favor _ .

He wipes his hand on his coat, taking a deep, shaky breath, and heads down to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> how was that for the last part in this series before it comes back from hiatus and I continue to write?? I know that I didn't finish all of episode 99 (I have like 20ish minutes still left in the episode), but I felt like this was a good place to stop and give myself room to pick up the thread and weave it neatly together with whatever may come next. When CR does come back from hiatus (which hopefully will be after a vaccine has been found and we all don't have to worry about covid as pressingly as we do now, and maybe some good changes will have been proposed and passed to demilitarize and defund the police - a girl can dream) I probably won't immediately start writing again though. I'm going to wait for about 3-5 Essek appearances or moments that I feel are important for this series to happen so that I have more canon material to work with and stuff
> 
> Thank you all so so so so so much for coming along on this journey with me!! Thank you for reading and leaving kudos and commenting - you guys don't understand how happy it makes me when you leave comments, and I am just so eternally grateful to hear everything you guys have to say about the fics I write!! I love to answer back to every single one of the things you write, and I'm so sorry if it takes me a while to get back to you all sometimes T.T I'd like to give a special shout out to Quarts, Anadyomena, and fondueyourself - you three have left a comment on every single part of this series, and man, that's just some dedication 💜🧡 I just love all my commenters so much T.T
> 
> and now a couple of notes on the piece itself:
> 
> Even though i know Essek teleported on the deck, given the arcane choices i’ve gone with for this chapter I decided that he would instead draw a teleportation circle below the deck because idk that’s just what i’m feelin’ y’know
> 
> I also decided to change the time when Yasha and Caleb had their conversation to after Caleb and Beau’s visit to the Assembly ship. Maybe I was just having a hard time tracking everything bc i’ve been having trouble focusing, but idk it just flowed better in my brain like this
> 
> and I also wanted to share with you guys a bit of behind the scenes from mooonths ago: Ever since i started watching the second campaign (and binge watching it until i finally caught up), i’ve been taking little episode notes of little items i might want to write about. All of it was Widofjord centric, up until one sexy, treasonous spymaster drow fucking showed up, and stole my heart, and everything went downhill from there, leading to this series and to my [canon divergent multichapter fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872966/chapters/57385546). My first note on Essek, deadass, was “Fucking essek stole my fucking heart I want to vomit omfg” and fuck man, i wouldn’t have it any other way T.T
> 
> now that we've reached the temporary end of this series, I'd like to let you guys know where you could find me, which would be [here](https://twitter.com/Fahilo_Writes) on twitter and [here](https://gildedraven-goldenwhisper.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. You guys can just drop by and say hi or scream about Critical Role with me or just tell me how you've been doing!!
> 
> also, thought: Essek can’t be put to sleep bc of his fey ancestry so Liam didn’t have to roll all those dice bc the manacles of stasis weren’t gonna knock him out anyway send tweet  
> this is the shit my brain comes up with when I should be studying for the finals i'm taking T.T
> 
> anyway, thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys liked it, don't forget to love each other, and I hope you all stick around for when this series picks back up again!!
> 
> This fic was inspired by:  
> High Seas, High Stakes | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 99 - 1:10:00 - 1:38:50, 1:41:00 - 1:45:10, 1:53:15, 2:46:00, 3:04:00 - 3:22:50


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